It Has Been a Whole Deal, Y'all.

This weekend, I was at Camp Cowen (Woot!) when a counselor told me, "You should start a blog!". I am a blog neglector. It is true. My last post was a week before I returned from maternity leave and have basically been in the fire ever since. Seeing that I can't catch you up on every detail, I have decided to go through my phone and let my photo stream tell you about the last 6 months of my life.

One snowy evening, Nina was running into dinner and fell. As she was falling, her mouth caught the corner of a shelf and popped out 4 teeth. She was a trooper even though I still have PTSD.

Lee's dad was appointed a state senator by the WV governor. Lee and I then peppered his office with post-it's. It's what we do. 

My little who is never sick got the flu. The rest of us dodged that bullet. 

Brooks started cereal. Food. Is. His. Favorite. 

Valentine's Day changes when you're a parent. Lee nor I have ever been huge Valentine's fans. This year, we did a soup and movie night. Obviously Brooks enjoyed himself. 

Lee went to Bolivia to visit our sweet friends, the Reeds. They're coming Stateside for a year soon. We can't wait!

Boso 4 at Easter. I can't even. 

We took a family trip to NC to visit. I died when I saw how much like a little boy Brooks looks here. Can someone tell me when that happened??

We get to be outside all the time now that Snowmagedon 2015 is over! (Even though I'm currently still in school because of those blasted snow days.)

Nina illustrates her parents' attitudes by drinking her "coffee" straight from the pot. (And she knows that Keurigs don't support the high volume of caffeine that must be consumed. Drip pots: we won't leave you now.)

Nina graduated from preschool. (Even though she will return next year since she's my August 31 baby)

Lee taught me how to use a saws-all to build a fence out of deconstructed pallets. (He did the building. I did the deconstructing. It works better that way.)

He's handsome and handy. Red Green has nothing on him. 

The kiddos are finally able to bathe together. So much faster to give baths. I die. 

My parents have sold the house they have lived in since I was 1. So excited for them to have a new place that doesn't require the steps to do laundry! 

Lee and I are beginning to plan our 10 year anniversary getaway for next year. I determined to look better for that than I did the honeymoon. Then I realized that we're going to the beach next month and I realized how true this currently is: 

Happy summer, y'all! 

Adios, 2014

As the new year approached, I, like many of you, decided I would look at my goals and see how I did. (I hate the word "resolution" mostly because I know how most people feel about the word "resolution". Which means one of my goals for this year is to stop caring so much what people think... but for now, SEMANTICS, so "goal") I hopped on my old trusty blog (which I mostly keep for myself. I can remember what socks I wore on my first car date,  but have no idea what I did last week) to see my 2014 goals. Well, funny thing. I didn't make any. I rocked the posting of my 2013 goals and it was good to see what happened that year (especially since we can agree that year went away with a "good riddance"), but then I remembered where I was this time last year. I had recently miscarried and was heartbroken. My goal for 2014 was to have a baby and I knew that was completely out of my control, so I didn't make a goal about it.

In January, we got pregnant (Woohoo!)

In February, we ran a half marathon.

In March, I was in my first trimester, so I threw up a lot and went to bed early.

April, not much... (Wow. This is the point of boredom where you should totally exit this blog...)

May, Found out we were having a boy and my life was consumed with planning the centennial commencement for our school.  (I rarely talk about my job on the blog, but this is one of my jobs at school) Also found out I had placenta previa. Nina completed 3 year old preschool. (How?!)

June: Began a super busy summer and took our first and second trips to Camp Cowen for the summer. Found out the placenta previa had moved (yay!) Noticed my nose swelling.

July: Did third week at Cowen, Found out I had pregnancy hypertension. Allowed to go to the beach. Came back from the beach, put on bed rest. Got great time with the Reeds.

August: Bedrest. Lee started another season of soccer. Nina turned 4. For real. How is that even a thing?! Watched a ridiculous amout of HGTV and decided what walls in our house needed to go to be an open floor plan. (and ignored the stink eye that this invoked from my husband and father-in-law)

September: Nina started 4 year old preschool. More bedrest. More soccer.

 

Brooks was born! Lots of recovery and rest. (Except, not much rest because I just had a newborn...)

October: More recovery. More soccer.

November: More recovery. Thanksgiving!!

December: Finally recovered!! Lots of play time, baking, wrapping, cuddling, and family. Christmas! Bought a minivan.

In 2014, we succeeded in having a beautiful, healthy, incredibly happy, and so so chubby baby. We also succeeded in accomplishing a huge financial goal that we have been working toward for a while! Such a great feeling! Even though 2014 had 3 months of bedrest and 3 months of recovery, I didn't hate the year. We all survived (Both physically and emotionally) and learned so much about what friendship and love looks like. So much of people's true colors comes out in trying times and I learned so much about people that are in my life.

I am busy working on my goals for 2015 and will post them when I have them. Nothing solidifies a goal like making it public. First off, I am committing to another year of scripture memorization through the Siesta Scripture Memory Team (SSMT). I did this in 2013 and grew so much! It's not too late if you want to join in!

Here's to another year! (And hopefully will be able to not spend 6 months of it on the couch!)

A Few Christmas Twists

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. And once NBC added the National Dog Show to a new tradition, it is seriously just like an extra piece of bacon to an already perfect breakfast. My family all knows how I feel about "holiday skipping". If you meet up with my cousins, you will inevitably hear stories from many Thanksgivings passed including board game mishaps, movies, naked babies crawling under dressing rooms... So. Much. Fun. There will be no trees, carols, or presents until after the wishbone has been broken. (Except for this year, it never broke, it just kind of awkwardly bent. Which is really unfortunate since my brother brought a friend home from Germany for her first American Thanksgiving and we thought we would let her break it. And it didn't. But the photo was cute) I do make the exception for the "hot items" for kids because last year, my mom and I chased a Doc McStuffins office like a dog chasing its tail. But generally, I buy no present until the day after. (A big shout out to being an Amazon Prime member. I love you, UPS man, I promise.)

I tell you, Christmas changed for me and became MAGICAL when Nina came to us. I went to Hobby Lobby (she was 3 months old) and I seriously had more enthusiasm than I do when I enter the gates of Disney World. It was a complete game changer. Lee and I had recently discussed how we would do Christmas. We wanted to keep the magical portion of it all without losing that Christmas is celebrating the birth of our Savior.

Fast forward a few years and we realize that, really, Nina remembers very little from the last few Christmases. WE had fun, but I think this is the first year that she really GETS IT. So, we have done several things to do both: have the magical fun of Christmas (complete with trees, lights, stockings, presents, and yes, the ever-so-controversial Elf on the Shelf) and concentrated time for remembering that the purpose of the season is to concentrate on God's love for us and the birth of Christ.

While, I am in NO way saying that our way is the best way or that any other way is wrong. Hear me on that: there is no Christmas shaming from this girl. I have several friends that have young kids who are trying to figure out how to do both and here is what I'm loving from both.

Focusing on Advent
Since Nina is 4, we are just starting to teach her words that are mostly used during Christmas, namely "Advent". It really helped our cause that Nina's best friend, Emily's, family did the first advent reading of the year for our church. ("What is "advent"? "You know, where we focus on 4 things at Christmas and light a candle each week for each one. You know, Emily lit the "Hope" candle." "Oh yea!") We have an advent ring at our house (Okay, I'll be real. We ordered an advent ring and when we got it, it was broken into 5 pieces, so we have another advent ring currently on a truck somewhere that will be delivered to us this week. So, we have one, we just don't HAVE one. But we have candles. That counts, right?)

Decorating the House
For us, decorating is a family event. We sing, dance, unintentionally clean off book shelves from papers floating free from college... Family time (Mostly fun, except for cleaning part. And realizing how long I've been out of college).

How we Do "Elf on the Shelf"
We were gifted the elf when Nina was 1 and really, are low-key elf owners. Let's be real, I don't use my elementary education degree because of the creativity required. We're more of the "Try to not forget to move the elf" type of people. I recently was reading a blog about how many families choose not to do the elf because of different familial philosophies about what the elf does or represents at their house. (Again, no shaming here either way) While I was reading the comments on the section, I saw an idea that we have adopted and have fallen in love with. Instead of the elf representing mischief or spying, he is a messenger for us. Bernard (Yes, I LOVE the Santa Clause series) leaves "Missions of Kidness" for Nina to complete. Notes are left for her that reemphasize what we are learning in our family advent devotions and give a mission to show Christ's love for that day. Notes aren't left every day, but a few times a week. Nina loves her missions and she loves that Bernard brings them. 

The Greatest Gift
I read a blog last year about Ann Voskamp and her "The Greatest Gift" books and let me tell you, it has lived up to my expectations. We are using "Unwrapping the Greatest Gift". It has a daily scripture that walks through the Bible discussing scripture that demonstrates God's love to us and equates it to God's love through Christ. You can print off ornaments that can be colored and hung on a "Jesse tree" (Either paper, felt, or a small tree) that is solely for these special ornaments that illustrate each day's lesson. We ordered ours from Amazon, but they are currently sold out. I was able to find it still available on Christian Book.

Santa

We still do "Santa" but try to not put too much stock in him. He only brings 3 gifts to show the 3 gifts from the Wiesmen. Last year, Nina insisted on leaving Santa a banana because she was concerned he may get a stomach ache from too many cookies. 

We still sing "Jingle Bells" along side of "O, Come All Ye Faitful" (Which, hilariously, is the only song that seems to calm Brooks down when he's upset). We love to bake, send cards, etc. But I'm really loving our magnetic nativity board with a countdown and our family time with our Jesse tree. I love Santa and the fun and Magic of Christmas, but man, I love my Savior so much. Especially seeing the whole story unfold new in my child's eyes. 

I'm sure there are a ton of more ideas that people use to show the love of Christ and I would LOVE to hear them. The day I stop learning is the day I die. I thought I would share a few things we do!

No One Can Teach You to Teach

I come from a long line of teachers, and one thing I have heard from all of them is, "No one can teach you how to teach." I agree. In 3.5 years of undergrad (don't mock my overachiever, "I took too many AP classes", self), I took classes on educational philosophy, psychology, history, and methods, and my family was right, I was still clueless.

At UT, they have a 5 year masters degree education program. The intention is 4 years of undergrad, a semester of grad school (typically done in the summer) of research classes and then a year of student teaching while writing an action research paper. The first semester, you teach half a day and do classes the second half of the day and second semester, you teach all day and present your research.

 (And, in my case, plan a wedding. What was I thinking?! Oh yea. He was awesome :))

In the second semester, I was told I would be a traveling teacher with the hearing specialist in a neighboring county. I learned that I would hop in a car every morning with the teacher and we would go around to all of the schools in the county to provide services. I also learned that my teacher had been fighting ovarian cancer for four years. When I met Mickey, we had instant chemistry. She was laid back and jovial and had an awesome sense of sarcasm, which is my love language. We were a perfect match. We provided services to special needs preschools, sweet  elementary students, scattered middle schoolers (who would always hide their hearing aides from us), and a few high schoolers who wished we would just go away. While traveling around the county, we discussed our dogs (she had a schnauzer that provided her tons of company during her cancer fight), cooking, family, weddings... No topic was off limits. 

In our teaching, we had lots of tough situations. Parents who had divorced over their child's IEP, pregnant teens, parents who didn't bother to show up to their IEP meetings, and, of course, Mickey's cancer. 

What I learned is that there are tough things in teaching. Often times, the lesson doesn't work, the students don't cooperate, you're provided no space to work, no materials to work with... But that it's all in perspective because life happens. At the end of your life, is what is going wrong going to matter? (Which, for Mickey, could have been any time) She always chose joy. Always. She had a hysterical story to tell about every situation and I still laugh about many of them today. 

When I got my first teaching job, I was assigned a mentor teacher who embodied the same philosophy that Mickey had. It was as if my new mentor teacher had talked to my college mentor about how to teach me to teach. Meg is now one of my best friends in the world and gives so much wisdom to my career, including the advice I always turn to, "No matter what decisions are made by higher ups, I will show up and do my job tomorrow." And we always choose laughter. (Most of which, we find funnier than anyone else does) Incredible mentors.

Mickey and I have been Facebook friends where she and I would interact and relive inside jokes. Her sense of humor always has made me laugh more than most.

Last night, I dreamed that Mickey had moved into our house and told me that she had called hospice. I woke up shaken and grabbed my phone at 4:30 and realized that the last post on her Facebook was in an album called "Mickey's last trip to the beach" and it was posted at the beginning of October and my heart sank. I googled her name and found her obituary and found out that she lost her battle with cancer on November 11. 

My heart breaks that the world has lost such an incredible woman. I celebrate for her that she is finally done fighting. From her, I learned so much about life and how to face it. And I consider my life and career so much better off that I had her as my original mentor. I will forever laugh a little when I hear the word "behoove" and will never look at a ShopVac the same. 

If you're a teacher, mentor a new one that is starting and teach them the positive and the laughter behind our profession. And teach them that life is never too bad to not laugh along the way. 

My life is better off that I was taught that. 

Being a Pastor's Family

As a kid, I was most known for one label, a pastor's kid. (Most commonly called "PK") I had it the worst because, not only was I a PK, but I was the kid of a PK. A second generation. I learned at a very early age that my dad's occupation put labels on how I should act, what my grades should reflect, how I should dress... And when a slip-up occurred, the first thing to be said was, "And you're a preacher's kid." According to society, the standard to which I was to live was my father's occupation. Most PKs are grouped into 2 categories: rebellious terrors or too sheltered to think for themselves. To be honest, I (nor most of the PKs I know) fall into those categories. I most likely would call us, "fighting the same spiritual battles as everyone else while being held to a nearly impossible standard".

I also ended up marrying a pastor and I find many of the standards have remained the same, but with the new label of "Pastor's wife" but the label I call myself hasn't changed a bit.

Many people assume that being part of a pastor's family is miserable. Many expect that we are all busting to get free from it and people have asked why I wanted to get tangled back in it after living with it my whole life. 

The truth is, I LOVE being a PK and a pastor's wife (why does no one call us PWs? Does that sound like POW? I will start it now. PDubs unite!) While it is true that many Sundays, we are at the church for a collective 8-9 hours and that our evenings are filled differently, so are our hearts. As a kid, I did my piano practice during deacon meetings and used WD-40 to remove gum from carpet during choir practice (I LOVED that job). As a PW, we have a science for juggling our kids on Wednesday and Sunday nights. We get the privilege of kids coming home from college and coming over to tell us how they're still serving and learning. And that Nina identifies certain sports moves by which youth kid she has watched perform it during an evening sporting event. (We play "Jake Tyler" all of the time.)

Many church members get in a rut of only socializing with people near their age or same life experiences. As a pastor's family, we get the privilege of knowing all ages: young and the wisest. As a kid, I had tons of adopted aunts and uncles and grandparents, many of whom still hold those spots in my heart now. As a youth pastor's wife, we get to see these middle school kids come in and are super rowdy and we question them getting anything we're trying to teach them. Then, they come in as older high schoolers challenging US to be better and more passionate. 

I have also found that being a PK is its own secret society. There are things that most kids never think of. As Nina becomes more aware of her dad's job, I am teaching her the unspoken rules of being a PK:

- When someone comes to the house to talk to Dad, you play quietly in another part of the house. You don't ask why they're there and try your best to not overhear anything. 

- (My friend Abie's rule, age 13. Former PK, now a missionary's kid, aka "MK") When someone is coming over, they usually talk in the kitchen. Get your snacks early. 

- When socializing after church, do your best to not repeat the church business that you overheard in the car. (I had to learn that one the hard way.)

The truth is, I love doing ministry and I love that my ministry is intertwined with my husband's. I love that Nina and Brooks have 40 big brothers and sisters who teach her to serve others and to love big. I never have hated being a PK or PW because I have had the privilege of living with pastors who live ministry and not just teach it. I have seen their tears over other people's pain, their joy over life and love, and their devotion to a profession that is so much more than a label, but their passion. This life that I live isn't a life of obligation, but a joy of a daily challenge to a higher devotion. 

(That, and someone is always baking for us. Grin.)

The Boso 4 FAQ

Now that the details of another dramatic pregnancy have drawn to a close, it's time to get on with life. One of the things about going from 9 weeks of bed rest straight to recovery from HELLP and a cesarean is that I don't get out much. A few people have been awesome and have checked on me almost daily since July. I will never again underestimate the power of a quick text to someone. But when we're out, there are a ton of questions we're asked. So, I thought I would take time now to answer! 

Brooks

My little man is doing awesome. I was given steroid shots at 29 weeks to mature his lungs and I am so grateful they did. Born at 36 weeks, he came out screaming! He weighed in at 7lb 9oz and was absolutely perfect. (I don't want to think about how big he would have been if he had been full term!) Lee and I often joke about the fact that he was technically a preemie and he could hold up his own head while we were still in the hospital. His name, Brooks Walker, is a dual family name. Brooks is Lee's Papa Joe's middle name and Walker is my Nannie's maiden name. He is a super laid back baby who grins often and loves to cuddle. 

Nursing 

Because he is a "poor preemie", we had a bit of a time teaching him how to nurse. He wasn't interested in latching and because of his bad case of jaundice, he would have rather slept than eat anything. Once we treated the jaundice and I found a section in my La Leche League book on near-term babies and latch problems, we made a few adjustments and now we have no problems. He has a super cute squeak he does whenever he's hungry and it makes me giggle. 

Sleeping

When I was pregnant with Nina, a girlfriend of mine told me about a book called "Babywise". It's a basic, common sense book about scheduling that trains babies to sleep through the night without being super rigid and never "crying it out". It worked like a dream (see what I did there?) for Nina (she was sleeping through the night by 8 weeks and 12 hours by 11 weeks) and is already proving true for Brooks. He sleeps 4 hours, nurses, and is down for another 4-5 hours. No complains from these parents! 

Nina

Nina is obsessed with her brother. She loves to show him everything she thinks he needs to know about the world. (She's currently telling him who all the characters are on Handy Manny. Important things.) She has a changing table in his room so she can change her baby, too. So far, no jealousy. Every night, when we tuck her in, we let Brooks lay beside of her for "Nina Brooks cuddle time". It's her favorite part of the day. 

HELLP

I'm feeling okay. Every day is different. Some days, I feel good and some days I cry because I feel so badly. I have lots of headaches, and some days my vision is off, most days I'm very nauseated, and everyday, I'm so tired that I only have a few hours of energy. I'm on lots of iron for my anemia and have to still take it easy as much as I can. The doctor says it could still be a month or more before I start to feel like myself again. Coming off of 9 weeks of bed rest and 2-3 months of recovering from HELLP syndrome... If you know me at all, you know that not having energy is a direct contradiction of who I am. But, my blood pressure is going down, which is a great sign that I'm healing. Every day is different and one day closer to being better. 

Lee

Lee isn't called by his name very often around here, but "rockstar". He has coached soccer, worked, and taken care of all household responsibilities since July. Soccer is winding down with only a week left in the regular season and I'm slowly getting back to doing a few light household tasks. I'm hoping he gets a break soon. 

Adjusting to 2 kids

Most people cautioned us that we were in for a crazy ride with two kids. So far, it was a much rougher adjustment to one kid than 2. When Nina came, I remember thinking, "No, I can't feed you! I'm tired." But, now I'm used to someone needing me all of the time. (Note: I am not held responsible for any of these statements when Brooks is mobile.)

Overall, we are grateful. Grateful for a healthy baby boy (who grins when he pees on me or toots). Grateful for a big sister who loves to help (When being puked on, her feet can run really fast to get more burp cloths). Grateful that I'm alive to enjoy the moments. And so looking forward to so many more memories. 

Preeclampsia, HELLP, and a Sweet Love Bug

On Monday morning, I woke up tired. We had had homecoming at church the day before and I felt like I had worn myself out. Lee took Nina to preschool and I laid around the whole time. After school, Lee's mom came to get Nina to redeem her birthday present of a trip to Chuck E Cheese and I wasn't feeling well still. And although I welcomed her getting to have a blast, I was going to be sad without her. Lee had an away soccer game and I knew it would be just me all evening. As the day progressed, I felt worse. My head was hurting, I didn't have much of an appetite and overall felt yucky. I took my blood pressure and it was higher than it has been yet. Knowing I had an appointment the next day, I texted my doctor (fully expecting him to say to take it easy for the rest of the day) and he told me to head straight to the hospital. Surprised and a little panicked, I grabbed my last minute stuff and headed to Beckley. Lee was at his soccer game and met me and my mom at the hospital. They evaluated and did blood work. My headache hadn't responded to any Tylenol and was making me nauseous from pain. My doctor met us at the hospital and decided we would stay for at least a 24 hour urinalysis, and some more tests. After a long night, our doctor came in the next morning to inform us that my platelets were dangerously low and it was apparent that I had severe preeclampsia and something called HELLP syndrome. (A condition that affects the liver enzymes, platelets, and red blood cells.) A former student of mine had a sister who had lost a battle with HELLP, therefore I was aware of it. I knew it was bad news.

The only cure for preeclampsia and HELLP is delivery. So, we began the process to see if my body would go into labor on its own and started a drip of magnesium to prevent seizures due to the preeclampsia. My friend, Jenna, had had magnesium with her first pregnancy and had warned me that I would feel like I had the flu. She was right. After more than 12 hours, I had made no progress towards labor and my platelets were dropping. I was prepped and was heading in for an emergency c-section. With our last delivery, (which apparently is quite remembered on the Labor and Delivery wing) all precautions were taken to ensure both Brooks and I came out alive. Once I got prepped, we were ready to deliver. Both of my OBs were present and one of my other moms, Cookie (who works in the nursery and came in that morning just to be with us), and it was game time. And I was terrified. There was one point in the surgery where I could tell I was losing a lot of blood and immediately said my goodbyes to Lee. It wasn't what I wanted, but I knew how the odds were stacked against me. 1 in 4 cases of HELLP don't survive. And with my history of accreta, I was prepared for a lot of bleeding (with very low platelets). After, what felt like an eternity, but probably was just a quick moment, Dr. Rainey told me he was able to save my uterus and I was going to make it. The placenta wasn't accreta, but was tightly attached. Tears of relief and joy began to flow. I sent Lee to the nursery with Brooks and Cookie while they finished up on me. The anesthesiologist said, "You got lucky, Carmen." No sir, all that it is, is that God hasn't completed my story. It isn't a matter of having God on my side, because that would have been the case no matter the outcome. But, twice now, with rare life-threatening situations in delivery, God had chosen to show me that he isn't done with me.

At 9:17 on 9/17, my sweet boy was born at 36 weeks weighing 7 pounds and 9 ounces and was 19 1/2 inches long. He was perfect. The steroid shots had developed his lungs and had no signs of being a preemie. (At that weight, he may have come out walking if we had gone full term.)

After a day of intense nausea and vomiting (thanks, magnesium) and several days of recovery, we are home. My platelets and hemoglobin have a lot of catching up to do and my cesarean incision makes me see stars sometimes. But, we're home. I know that every nurse and doctor that we encountered in the last week was another opportunity to show the love of The Lord to these incredible people who have devoted their lives to healing. I know that this situation could have been so much worse. I know that apparently my body does not handle being pregnant well. I know that our friendship with our OB isn't a coincidence, but one to give us a peace and a confidence. But, I also know that The Lord is good. I know that His purpose for my life isn't complete yet. 

Nina loves the song "The Only Name That Matters". The chorus says, "When I wake up in the land of glory, with the saints I will tell my story there will be one Name that I proclaim." I have been overwhelmed thinking about what "story" will be my children's. I know that part of my story is helping them to discover theirs. 

We are a family of 4 (6, if you count the furbabies) under one roof tonight against so many odds. We are a couple who has had to say final goodbyes more times in 4 years than some couples in 40. I am a mother who cried grateful tears today when I hugged my doctor upon my discharge. I am a child of God whose story isn't done. 

"... Jesus, just that Name."